


Maybe We're Siblings

by HighfalutinTomato



Series: A Tale of Siblings [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bitchy Reginald aka, Gen, Grace's enormous clothing repair wardrobe, Klaus is in a skirt at some point lmao, Literal 13 year old Five, Literal 13 year old Klaus, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, She takes clothing repairs and replacements Very Seriously, Supportive Klaus, Trans Male Character, Trans Number Five | The Boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26015062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighfalutinTomato/pseuds/HighfalutinTomato
Summary: Five goes searching in the middle of the night for something important to him. He's intercepted by someone he didn't expect.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: A Tale of Siblings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888315
Comments: 13
Kudos: 227





	Maybe We're Siblings

**Author's Note:**

> Set before the events of season 1 and Five’s apocalypse time jump, when Five is Actually still 13.

He stared up at the large wardrobe in front of him. Well, it wasn’t large so much as he was small, but it could be bigger than the entire academy and he’d still be no less determined to get to the contents held within. He balled his hands up in the pleated skirt he wore, tugging it down further, as if that could transform it into the very same shorts all his brothers were allowed to wear.

He glared down at the offending piece of fabric. He didn’t hate skirts, truly, he found them rather breathable and less restricting, even nice to twist around in, but he hated what they represented to the whole of society. Having numbers for names was a small relief when the whole of the country, and even further, were calling him “the girl.” Not as a superhero name like the rest, but rather because they didn’t know what to call him. He didn’t understand how it was so hard to give him a proper nickname instead of a lazy recount of his perceived gender. He jumped through space, that was cool! The name? Not so much.

It’s not as if he hadn’t tried to solve this problem himself before, even going so far as to shout back “the boy,” when he heard those words he despised. His dear father had taken issue with this however, giving him a lengthy reminder of why he should never speak out of turn in public. He didn’t regret it, and he never would no matter how many times he punished him. It just made him angrier.

His siblings always chose to watch from the sidelines during such times, too afraid to step in or act out in fear of getting punished as well. He couldn’t blame them, and they were his own actions, but it still hurt and he still found himself feeling betrayal afterwards. Though, this was only in the event Reginald decided to make an example of him, when he spoke up in public or around his siblings, so that they wouldn’t get ideas of grandeur in their head. So they wouldn’t think that they could stand up to him without consequence.

It goes without saying that his father didn’t approve of his actions that day, and he’d never let him live it down either. By that he means he’d never again let him claim to be a boy, because of that one simple act of defiance. It seems his father couldn’t handle not being in control over every little aspect of all of his children.

He glared up at the offending wardrobe, determination igniting brighter than before. He grabbed onto the large knobs and twisted harshly, not wanting to waste time with trying to be sneaky. The longer he was here, the more chance he had of being caught. Here being his mother’s wardrobe that contained all of the materials she should ever need for repairing or replacing any damaged clothing they should have. They weren’t banned from this wardrobe, but they also weren’t allowed near it either. He knew, however, that he was a special case and his father would especially be disgruntled by him snooping around.

It’s a good thing he didn’t care. His father could do nothing to him that he hadn’t already. With this last thought, he swung open the wooden doors hastily, to avoid too much creaking characteristic of a slower pace. He peered into the inky darkness, squinting to see into the much-more-massive-inside wardrobe. It was clear he wouldn’t have much luck with sight alone, so he hesitantly released the doors he’d been clutching, as if afraid they’d slam shut and alert everyone in the academy just where he was and what he was doing. 

He reached out into the shadows and felt around gently, trying not to disturb things too much. He finally felt fabric instead of bare wood, but he could feel the pleats in it too and knew it was just a skirt akin to the one he was wearing. If he wanted a skirt, he was pretty sure he could’ve just stayed in his room and looked in the closet. He fumbled around more hastily, still careful to remain conscious of the amount of sound he made, searching for his entire purpose for being here. In a wardrobe, in the middle of the night.

He almost wished there was a thunderstorm, wind, something. Anything to cover any sounds he might accidentally make. While they did sneak out sometimes, and sneaking around wasn’t out of the ordinary for the siblings, his father was still a light sleeper so they often had to do it on nights with plenty of ambient sound. However, tonight was a very quiet night, but he just couldn’t wait any longer. He was very determined, not to mention stubborn when he wanted something, and not much could stop him. He’d told no one of his plan either, so it’s not like they had a chance to.

He was so engrossed in his task and remaining as silent as possible that he had forgotten entirely to keep track of his surroundings. Which was rather careless of him, considering that was half of the battle to ensuring he didn’t get caught. Because of this folly, he nearly leapt out of his skin upon being tapped on the shoulder and whirled around as fast as he could. He bumped into the wooden doors, nearly causing a whole lot more noise if he hadn’t been grabbed by the offender and led away carefully.

He looked up, squinting in the darkness to find his brother staring back at him, looking like he was full of questions. Against his will, he felt relief flood through him at the sight of Klaus, where usually he’d be filled with only annoyance. He extricated himself from his brother’s arms, dusting himself off, as if that could regain his lost dignity from being caught so off-guard. Klaus watched him with amusement, seeming as if he were about to burst out laughing. He really hoped he didn’t, for both of their sakes but mainly his.

“Soo, whatcha doing here?” Five squinted at him, familiar annoyance returning easily, and a bit of hesitation too as he considered how he could play this off. He knew this brother of his wasn’t prone to tattling, nor would anyone really believe him if he did since he was almost always out of it, but he could never be too careful. It was him against everyone else, they looked out for themselves first and foremost.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he decided to rebut. Klaus was clearly having none of it, however, as he just stared at him with amusement, clearly still waiting for an answer and not rising to his bait. The one time he didn’t decide to ramble endlessly or talk to some ghost, it had to be now. Clearly he’d managed to capture his brother’s full attention, how lucky for him. “Alright, fine. I was just... looking for something,” he finally amended.

“Looking for something in a closet at the ghosty hour?” Five glared at him for all of five seconds before heavily sighing, having to work hard not to snap at him. He was so casual about everything, despite calling out his clearly odd behavior. It was unnerving.

“I was looking. For shorts,” he uttered out through gritted teeth, face turning red in embarrassment. Not over the act itself, but over how pathetic he felt having to sneak around at night for a basic article of clothing he should be allowed. He should be owed it, even. He excelled at his powers, he was good in his studies, yet all his father wanted to do was hold him back at every turn.

“Oh, is that all?” his head snapped back up to his irritatingly calm brother. The calm almost came across as mocking, as if his problems were insignificant, and it made him searingly angry. Even if that wasn’t his intent, he hated it, didn’t his problems deserve to be significant? His father had made them significant, while they watched. He wished they weren’t significant, so he could be like him, just as calm, just as carefree. Klaus seemed to sense his building rage and raised his hands in a placating gesture, “Hey, wait!”

Five glared at him, waiting for his brother to give him a reason why he shouldn’t snap and give away both of them. Klaus gestured him to follow and he regarded him with all the suspicion he believed the situation was owed, which was a shit ton. He couldn’t honestly expect him to follow along, as if he didn’t know the antics he pulled on a daily basis. Yet, Klaus didn’t seem to be willing to wait and see whether or not he would, walking away on his own even as Five remained there.

He sighed and quietly closed the wardrobe back up, hurriedly following after his strange brother as quietly as he could. As much as he hated it, curiosity did kill the cat and he wondered what Klaus could possibly have that he thought might derail his train of fury.

It was difficult to keep up with him in the dark halls and still remain stealthy, especially as his shoes threatened to come down a decibel too loud when he made a misstep while turning a corner. Somehow Klaus managed to slip through the halls like a ghost, with not a sound coming from his feet despite the fact that he knew the other had to be running to stay that far ahead. His brother was an enigma sometimes. Most times, really.

Klaus came to an abrupt halt in front of his room, gesturing widely at the entrance, “Tada,” he joined it with. Five stared at him as if he were the most incompetent idiot on the planet, shaking his head as he turned around to leave. He was stopped by a hand on his collar, the other nudging him inside. He was tempted to whirl around and yell at him to go bother someone else, but decided just this once to humor his brother. Not like he had anything better to do right then anyway, seeing as his window of opportunity with the wardrobe was now gone, since the threat of sunrise loomed even closer.

He crossed his arms, giving in but silently threatening to leave if he didn’t hurry up and come out with whatever the purpose for this was. Klaus opened his closet, peaking Five’s interest, but he refused to give up his no-nonsense demeanor, lest his brother take that as encouragement to mess around and waste his time. Well, waste it even more.

Klaus seemed to find what he was looking for, whirling around with some mysterious something hidden behind his back. Five raised an eyebrow, showing he was not here to mess around. “Come on, Fivey, just play along I promise it’s worth it.”

Five rolled his eyes at the nickname, “Alright I’ll ‘play along,’ what. What is it?” Klaus rolled his eyes in return but seemed to figure this was as much as he’d get from Five.

“Well you’re no fun, but if you must know-” he pulled the item from behind his back, presenting it to Five with all the grandiose of an archbishop crowning royalty. “It’s this!”

Despite how over-dramatic his brother had been about it, and how irritated he was by the display, he still managed to be legitimately shocked by what he was seeing. His brother had snuck him here in the middle of the night with the threat of being caught and punished, dealt with his clear annoyance at being in the same vicinity as him, and ignored that all with his only reward being to offer him a pair of his shorts. 

“Why?” he looked back up into the eyes of his brother, who once more was proving himself to be quite the enigma.

“You’re my bro,” he offered, as if that explained anything. It didn’t.

“No. Why are you really doing this?” he looked Klaus in the eye, as if he could decode him and his reasoning just as easily as if he were reading a test paper or writing a new series of equations. He couldn’t. 

People had always been the hardest for him to decode.

“Okay okay! Just, you seemed so sad about that skirt, enough to go digging in mom’s wardrobe in the middle of the night-” Five was about to protest and ask how he knew that, but he was cut off before he could even begin. “So I wanted to help you out,” he pushed the shorts towards him more, urging him to take them already.

Five looked down at them, touching them delicately, as if they would combust right before his eyes if he were too aggressive. It may seem silly, but this moment had always meant a lot to him. It signified the moment he’d finally be seen as a boy, where he’d finally be able to boldly stand as himself without any doubts. This moment was supposed to come from his father or himself, but instead, it was coming from his brother.

His brother, who he’d thought was invalidating his struggles, and his brother who he’d always assumed never cared about anyone but himself and the multitude of ghosts he’d always be seen talking to. Here was the proof, the proof that he’d been paying attention all along. He picked them up tentatively from Klaus’ hands, as if afraid he’d snatch them up in an instant and proclaim it all a cruel joke.

When he didn’t, he stared at the other for a few moments, allowing the reality of the situation he found himself in to sink in. He smiled, a small and gentle thing, nothing like his usual sarcastic or snarky smirks. For the first time, he felt like someone had his back.

“Now you don’t have to wear those skirts anymore, I’ll provide you all the shorts you need,” he paused a moment, as if considering a funny joke, “I’ll be your shorts dealer.” Five snorted despite himself, slapping a hand to his mouth for his body’s betrayal. He’d laughed at one of Klaus’ shitty jokes, in the same five minutes his brother had offered him a piece of cloth symbolizing more than he could ever imagine or hope it would. This was turning out to be a very odd night in every way possible.

“Wait- I can’t wear these around dad, he’ll never let me,” he looked down at the fabric mournfully, still determined to wear them in private and at every chance he could.

“Since when did you worry what dad allows?” he stared at Klaus, unsure how to respond to that loaded question. It’s not that he never worried, so much as he always pushed boldly forward through his doubts and hesitations. If he didn’t, he would be chained down, he would be defeated and he would have lost. He can’t do that, he can’t ever stop fighting, or he’ll lose himself. Klaus seemed to come to an understanding with himself right then, smiling at him. “Change into those and give me your skirt.”

Five looked at him weirdly, before shrugging. This wasn’t the weirdest thing his brother had ever asked him to do, and honestly he was past questioning things for that night. He went into the closet to change. He knew his brother would’ve turned around, but really he preferred the solitude of a closed and dark room for changing. It wasn’t much of a room, but it was close enough.

He came out with his newly fabric clad legs, walking around the vicinity of Klaus’ room a bit to get a feel for them and practically bursting with a happiness he’d never felt before. He smiled up at his brother, another genuine smile to add to his short list, and one that was returned, at that. His brother held out his hand expectantly, making a grabby hand motion. Five rolled his eyes in exasperation, dropping the skirt into his awaiting grip. He had no idea what his brother was plotting, but he decided it would at least be interesting.

He whirled around as his brother suddenly started unbuttoning his shorts, “Warn me next time!” He recoiled at what his poor eyes had almost been cursed with, shivering in disgust. He listened to the shuffling of fabric and waited for his cue to turn back around. He heard footsteps walking around the room, seeming to go in circles, and... laughter? Okay he had to be dressed by now, what the fuck was he doing.  
He peeked over his shoulder, afraid he’d made a grave miscalculation and Klaus was still shorts-less. To his surprise, his brother was wearing his skirt, twirling around and clearly enjoying the extra airflow it allowed him. Five could do nothing but gawk at him, finding himself once more caught off-guard by his increasingly strange brother.

“Um. What are you doing?” Klaus stopped spinning, nearly tripping over his own feet as he attempted to reorient himself and keep his eyes on Five and not the quickly spinning room.

“Oh, this way dad won’t get mad at you. It was all my idea, I made you hand over the skirt, and you had to wear my shorts,” he stated, as if it were obvious. Five found himself blinking at him dumbly, unable to think of a decent response.

“I- you would do that for me?” he asked, hesitant to know the answer, hesitant he was dreaming this all. It was very late- or very early, after all. Klaus tilted his head, as if confused why he would ask that, and still almost falling over himself from the remnants of dizziness.

“Of course, you’re my brother. Not my sister,” he said simply, as if that were just a fact that their dad had yet to catch onto. Honestly, Five decided then that it was that simple. While he wasn’t completely over trying to gain his dad’s acceptance, he also found all he’d really wanted was someone to accept him at all. His dad has seemed like the only liable candidate, his siblings more like strangers under the same roof, forced to work as a team, than actual people he could form bonds with. But he was wrong.

Maybe it wasn’t every sibling for themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> I mightt actually make an entire series for all the siblings and Five dealing with Trans Problems? Not sure about that yet actually- Klaus was really fun to write though so perhaps more with these two lmao
> 
> Also not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes
> 
> Also also posted on my Tumblr, deadliest-little-thing


End file.
